


Toil

by Tashilover



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: AU, Witchtrials, mini-fill, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-04
Updated: 2012-08-04
Packaged: 2017-11-11 09:42:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/477167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tashilover/pseuds/Tashilover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Arthur is accused of witchcraft, he and Carolyn run for it.</p><p>Based off a prompt in the CP kink meme</p>
            </blockquote>





	Toil

"Keep your head low," Carolyn commanded.

Arthur did as he was told, bending down until the knees of his trousers were coated in mud. On any other day, Carolyn would have berated him for getting his clothes dirty- she hated doing laundry- but now she couldn't give two hoots. When the whole country was looking for you and your son, clean clothes were low on the priority list.

Carolyn waited just long enough for the patrol of men to walk by. Grasping Arthur's hand, she held up a finger to signal to him to stay quiet.

Arthur curled his lips into his mouth and bit down.

Carolyn smiled at him. She turned back and quickly scanned the areas. Seeing no one, she dashed forward, pulling Arthur behind her. They ran until they got to the next alleyway, pausing only briefly to catch their breath. "Are you okay, Arthur?"

"I'm fine, mum." He sounded like he meant it.

Once their brief thirty second rest was over, she and Arthur ran again, dodging and weaving through the small city of Otterly Saint Mary. There were so many patrols out, Carolyn was worried she might be pushed too far from her destination from all the detours she was forced to take.

It took a great deal of time, but eventually she came upon the house she was looking for. She pounded on the door. "Herc!" She whispered feverishly. "Herc, let us in!"

He opened the door. "Carolyn?"

Carolyn forced her way past him, dragging Arthur behind her. "Close the door!"

Herc did as he was told, frowning at the command. "Good Lord, what's going on?"

Carolyn pulled back her hood, breathing in a sigh of relief. She didn't answer him immediatly, instead she turned around to pull back Arthur's hood.

Her fifteen year old son blinked up at her. "I'm okay, mum." He said grinning a bit. "Really."

"Carolyn..." Herc urged.

"Can we stay here, tonight?" Carolyn asked, ignoring his prompt. "If the answer's no, then we're going."

She puffed out her chest as she said this. She meant what she said, but Herc could see the strain it took for her to say it. She had bags under her eyes, her hair was a mess and she lost weight. She looked like hell.

Arthur was no better. He was downright filthy. His feet were soaked with wet mud and his hair was plastered down on his head with sweat.

The paused caused Carolyn to grip Arthur's hand tightly. She expected Herc to say no.

"Of course you can stay, you silly woman," he finally said "You and Arthur can sleep in the spare bedroom upstairs."

Carolyn let her shoulders drop. "Thank you," she said wearily, as if the request took all her strength.

 

 

 

Arthur was sleeping soundly for the first time in five days. Not hard to imagine given he hadn't slept in a proper bed in over a week. It didn't help every time either of them laid their head to rest, they were immediately awaken by the noise of patrol men, forcing them to flee their hidden spot.

Carolyn stroked Arthur's hair. He snuggled closer into her hand.

"Dear, heart," she mused fondly. She pulled the blanket up closer to his chin, then rose from her seat. Taking one last glance at Arthur's sleeping form, she closed the door to the room behind her.

Downstairs, Herc was waiting for her at the kitchen table with a cup of tea. "Care to explain what is going on?" He asked smoothly.

When she hesitated, he groaned out, "Oh, for goodness sake, Carolyn, sit down. You look like you're going to fall over. Come, sit, and drink this. It'll make you feel better."

Usually she would have told him where he could put that tea of his, but good Lord, did it smell good. The taste was even better. She groaned when she took a deep sip. "Oh, that's good."

Herc pulled out a bottle of whisky. "Irish tea always is," he said as he poured a generous amount into her cup. "Now, what's wrong? Why do you and Arthur look like fugitives?"

Carolyn sighed tiredly into her cup. There was no point in beating around the bush. "Arthur got accused of witchcraft two weeks ago."

Herc barked out a laugh, earning him a glare. "Come on, that's... Arthur? The boy wouldn't hurt a fly!"

"Of course he wouldn't. The fly would outwit him. But you know how Arthur is. He likes to talk to animals, likes to pretend he's flying... it wasn't long before someone decided his eccentricism might be a ploy from the devil."

"Hogwash," Herc hissed in disgust. "Is that why you're here? Surely there was a trial-"

Carolyn slammed down her tea angrily. "Trial? Torture, you mean! Burning his arms to determine how fast he heals, throwing him in the lake to see if he floated or not? He was damned the moment they accused him!"

"Then what about Gordon? Surely his money and influence could have helped-"

"Who do you think I went to first?" Carolyn hissed, closing her eyes. She wasn't going to cry about this. Not now. "He sold us out, Herc. His own son. I knew he was a bastard but I didn't know he was such... a  _bastard_!"

"Put so very eloquently."

"I can't-" Carolyn ran her hands over her face. She hated begging, she hated it, but it was for Arthur. It will always be for Arthur. "Herc, I know I'm asking for a lot, but I need your help. I literally have no where else to go-"

"Carolyn, you can't stay here. No, don't, don't look like that. I have too many gossiping neighbors. You'll be outted before the week is up. And I do not have enough influence in this town to keep you and Arthur safe."

She wasn't going to cry. She wasn't. "Then what else can I do?"

Herc was quiet for a long time. Then his eyes lit up. "Fitton." He declared.

"Fitton?"

"Yes," he got up from his seat, going to his library. He pulled out a rolled map. "Fitton, here," he said as he rolled out the scroll and pointing to the destination. "There is a church there, you can ask for sanctuary."

"A chruch? Herc-"

"I know, I know, but trust me on this. I know the priest there, Carl. Decent bloke, he'll keep you safe."

As much as Carolyn trusted Herc, that was still putting too much faith on  _chance_. It made her insides sick to know how much she was gambling here. To keep her face from showing how desvestated she felt, she looked down on the map.

Lord, it looked as if it would take nearly a month's travel just to get there. The distance between Otterly Saint Mary and Fitton was stupidly big. "I-I am not sure I will be able to find my way," she admitted.

"Don't worry, I'll send word to get you a guide." He rolled up the map. "You should get your rest. You might need to leave as soon as possible."

"Herc," Carolyn started. So far, he hadn't asked her for any type of payment. No man she had ever known did this all for free. "I... is there something you want?"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Want?"

"In exchange. For your help."

"Why, what are you offering?"

Did he really have to make her say it? Slowly, Carolyn raised a hand to the front of her blouse. She undid the straps.

Herc grasped her hand, stopping her. "Not that I'm not flattered," he grinned. "But these walls are not that thick. I really do not look forward to waking your son with our... activities."

She had to seal the deal. "Herc-"

He kissed her hand. "There. That's my payment for now. Get to Fitton, Carolyn. Once I know you're safe, then we can talk about the rest."

**Author's Note:**

> I might continue, but for now it is complete.


End file.
